Secret Santa Tenshi no Nozomi
by WolfchildBlazer
Summary: Santa gift, plus the other two that I actually wanted to post.
1. Frosty Morning

Hitsugaya Toshiro was enjoying his brief moment of peace leaning against the rail that lined the roads. The gentle, happy laughter of the nearby children playing was satisfying and rewarding in and of itself. A flash of blond and a more mature laugh had him wincing slightly, anticipating his more rowdy lieutenant to pop up as she normally does. However, it was a golden-blonde teen that joked with the children ice-skating on the small pond. She must have felt eyes on her as she turned to where he was comfortably relaxed and gave a flirty wink of hello, bemused he remarked that she reminded him of Matsumoto. Absently he wondered if Matsumoto had living descendants on this side. His curiosity was interrupted by the alerting jingle of a nearby hollow from his phone, and his hand dashed toward where his soul candy resided.

As quick as it took for him to pop out from his gigai, the hollow had been destroyed. The speed of the kill denoted it to be the only Quincy active and he sighed. Glancing over the blond girl teen with the red bow, and the gleeful children he figured it was time to head back to the base camp they had set up in the mortal world. The slight peace he had garnered lasted right up until he turned to slip back into his gigai. He found himself face-first in the snow, shinigami clothing becoming wet and the familiar feeling of icy slush sliding down the back of his neck. Hitsugaya found his object of ire bouncing up with a giggle, and was once again surprise by the amount of those with high spirit pressure and sense.

"You know, you shouldn't frown so much, it's not very attractive." She offered before skipping past him and looking back at him. "Well come on, I'll treat you to some hot chocolate." With that she _gently_ nudged him into his gigai body and dragged toward what looked like a café.

An hour later he was found by an extremely giddy Matsumoto holding several shopping bags, and was the only one to witness the pair bonding over feminine things. Hitsugaya groaned letting his head hit the table as he realized, now Minako, the blond teen girl, would undoubtedly be spending more time with them.

"Too cute." They both crowed and Hitsugaya only wanted to return back the soul society. Whatever peace he had managed to garner had floated away from him in a moment of inattention. Belatedly he wondered if Ichigo had any room at his place.


	2. Got it Memorized?

White, was the last color he saw as Sora continued to the World that Never Was and belatedly his mind tied to something far known for the color of white. _Snow_, he thought, watching as the last of Sora faded from his vision, it was snowing when _she _left too. It seems, to Axel, when nobodies died, for the final time, that they received the memories and soul thought to be lost. How ironic, that the thing they searched for, their identities would be given back when they died, and yet what use was it to them then? Axel twitched lightly as his red hair brushed against one of his festering wounds, he could almost feel the pale hands tending to his every scratch, just like before.

_He could feel the cold seeping into his ragged sleeve that had ripped when he had fallen. Young eyes focused on bruised knuckles as he pushed up from his fallen position, he had gotten too careless while playing. Tears built in the corner of his eyes but he was ten, and refused to let them fall._

_"Hey, are you all right?" A smart, female child was heard over his heavy thoughts and he turned. His best friend stood there arms crossed, nose pointing to the air. When he refused to respond, she huffed and stalked over. Tearing at the scarf that wrapped around her throat, she managed a strip that was just the right size for his new injury. "You're so clumsy, and I warned you not to go over here like a nut, there is ice." Her sharp voice reprimanded as she dealt with his injury and tugged him out of the snow._

Rei bit consciously at her lip as she stared out at the falling snowflakes, tender times nipping at her heels as she drew her fingers down the windowpane. There had been a time when Rei had not hated males, when she was still innocent to what tragedy would come. Where she lived in a small house instead of a small temple, and she had a family instead of just a grandfather and a man who should be a _father_. There was a time when she wasn't haunted by the solider of Mars, and that the color red showed only brightly on the head of one little boy.

Though it was over as soon as her family fell apart, her mother died and her father vanished into politics only to be seen by her eyes on the television screen. All she had left of the red-headed boy was gentle memories and the catch-phrase they once shared. It had been a taunt of intelligence against those who would tease them, but it was also their bind. Smiling grimly she laid against the window, watching as the snow mocked her because she was forced to leave. Curling her fingers into a fist she pressed against the window and smirked.

_"Got it…"_ She trailed off as she could almost hear him complete it.

_"**Memorized**_." Axel murmured for the final time and his eyes closed, lost in the last memories of a childhood that should have had a happy ending.


	3. Struggling

Tiny, frail hands worked thin fingers into knots as they fisted a small charm in hand. Tense, violent eyes started down angrily at her hands, they were lies in her eyes, to frail, to delicate for one such as she, a reminder of who she had inherited her hands from. They were the essence of feminine charm, delicate hands that belong to a musician, not a priestess, and definitely not the solider of Mars.

Her hands did not speak of the trials she had gone through, her hands, her _mothers'_ hands covered by the lies of her father. She tossed her head back, allowing her inky tresses to fall down her back and brush her hips like a gentle waterfall. Silently, she tied the last charm to the tree, and made her peace with her chosen religion, she did not stare at her hands again. For they were the reminder that her father had _demanded_ her presence at his next big release to the press, she was twenty-one, and she would be marveled like a piece of meat on an action block.

"You are coming of age, and need to be introduced into society; it is time to put away childish dreams." He had told her, for she would never acknowledge him as _father_, not as long as she lived.

Rei had listened and understood the silent and political maneuvers that she was to be toiled into, nothing more, a tribute, and a trophy. Such did the great solider of Mars fall, and the princess within scrabbled for ground, but the Politian's pretty little daughter asserted herself among all. Passion, she was supposed to be passion, untamable like the fire she controlled, not a doll, never a doll. However, she was born into a traditional family, no matter how untraditional her lifestyle had been, and as such the words of an arrange marriage didn't even faze her, somehow she was expecting the news. She was informed, quite coldly, that she was to make this work or he would be displeased, and Rei knew what that threat carried.

Twenty-one, an adult, out of touch with all her friends, the ones she spilt blood and soul with and her loving grandfather. Rei wanted, to just once, be incredibly selfish and fight against what her father proposed, she would have too if she had not met her intended. He was more of a man then a boy long before the age of numerical importance; he had to be as the third son of a corporate power lord. Smart, and cunning, both things her father would appreciate in his reign and by doing this he secured his place as heir to his own father. This was all a power play, but Rei could see the kind soul somewhere deep within the frosted grey-brown eyes blocked by a pane of glass. It was a form of subconscious defense, a need to be perceived as powerful and calculating, to survive and achieve. This boy made man, an Ootori, was constantly at war with himself, and Rei identified with that, a common ground within a need to bond.

When he, her husband to be took her hand in ritual to nuptials, she did not fight or flee, because she understood as much as he. They both had lost their childish dreams, mined down to their subconscious hope that maybe, someday things would be better than now. However, just for a second, a mere instant, when Kyoya turned to look a her, there was a connection, and she felt it all the way to her toes. For a second she imagine he did too, for he gave a little quirk of his lips that would identify his smile, before reciting the vows that would bind them. While the gossipers fretted behind them, and the press snapped various pictures Rei could only recall one happy thing about her wedding. It had been beautiful dyed with the pristine snow of December, glistening with the promise and hope that maybe, just maybe they didn't have to completely give up their dreams just yet.


End file.
